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Changing Relations

Part two of three

---

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Adagiodajiang

After moving day, travelling...

_ _

Sandor smiled as he rode on Alyssa's back, though the fox was a little awkward, a little stiff, even as Alyssa tried to walk as levelly and as evenly as she possibly could through the dense pine forest. The age-old trees towered over him, but the trail to the next town was wide enough for them to traverse easily, even if it was not the main route. It was a smaller, more direct path that they had taken, a little more challenging, though it by no means would have allowed the passage of the larger carriages and merchant fare.

It was better that way, just the two of them. Even though his relationship with the doe-taur was all out in the open, he still wanted to keep things comfortable for Alyssa. And the fox knew just how she liked to trot along, light on her cloven hooves, listening to birdsong and the sound of the natural world moving around her. The bustle of voices was something that, not all that long ago, Alyssa had flinched from. But she had grown stronger still.

"So..." Alyssa said, breaking the silence as she climbed a steeper slope, small rocks smaller than her hooves moving under her. "You're still...a little angry, right?"

Sandor grunted, his mood turning a little darker again, though the grumbly expression did not suit the mage's fox-ish face. Of course, Alyssa was referring to the gift from Elder Ron - the beautiful, cloth saddle that he had sent for them.

"Of course," he said lowly, ears flattening. "He's been against our relationship from the start and his words do not match up with his actions!"

Alyssa's brow furrowed and she steadied Sandor on her back as she sank back lightly on her haunches, leaping to a flat rock, the road broken up a little, though she could not say from what. A burbling creek rushed downhill towards the main tributary of the river to her right, the ground evening out again, though it looked like something had happened there to break up the trail.

"What do you mean?" She asked. "It was a gift, was it not? I thought it was a very nice gift. A saddle is..."

"He just sees you as a beast of burden," Sandor cut in, though he didn't want to talk over her, not really, he just had too many words to get out all at once. "He doesn't really think of you as someone, not someone like me. And you are someone like me! I'm someone like you too! All this class stuff is so tiresome, we're all here supposed to be working together in this land...and for what? For some to rise higher and look down their nose and think they're making a grand gesture by giving you a saddle to be ridden like a dull horse?"

"No... Sandor..." She shook her head, trying to find the words. "It's not that he thinks of me like that... Trust me, I've met more than enough in my time to tell when others think of me like that. He's changed. The saddle... It's more than that. If it was for a beast of burden, then he would have just given it to you and not me - because a beast doesn't have words like me."

Sandor grumbled, ears twitching, not convinced. His head thudded uncomfortably, not quite recovered after his drinking at the inn the night before. Perhaps that had not been his wisest idea, but neither would have been confronting Elder Ron while he had been under the influence if he had not already passed out after what he had imbued.

"It's more than a saddle, it's something that connects us," she explained, pointing out the compartments. "These here... These are for my herbs. These are for my timekeeping tools. He knows, he listens. This is a gift for both of us, something that he considered and had crafted to fit me especially because this is a way that we bond. You are riding me now, Sandor. It may be something that I allow, but it is still something that holds us together as part of our bond."

Sandor sighed and slumped on top of her.

"Maybe I have been a fool to waste so much time ruminating on it," he admitted, for he was not the kind of fox to hold fast to an ideal when he knew that he might have bitten off the wrong part of the hog. "But I still can't see what you mean beyond it being just a saddle..."

"Well, I do understand why you saw it that way, Sandor," she said, picking her way downhill, the slope gritty under her hooves, though a sparrow flitting past her ears caught her attention, hair light around her head where it fell softly, her long hair reaching past her shoulders. "But...it has the potential to be used as a saddle still, I know. You were angry at the time because of that. But it fits beautifully, I do not know how the measurements were so exact, and, well...you're already sitting in it too, you know. So, can it really be that bad?"

He laughed and shook his head, for it was, indeed, under his buttocks at that time, his legs securely wrapped around his beloved doe-taur. Still, Sandor understood, especially then, that it was very much a privilege to ride her, to move with her as if their bodies were one in that way.

"Yes, I see what you mean," he chuckled, shaking his head. "But the road is a bit bumpy, you know, my crotch is hurting... Even more than my knee did yesterday!"

Alyssa rolled her eyes and blushed, though, really, she would never want Sandor to change. She loved the fox exactly the way he was, even if he was cheeky and spoke more crudely than she, quite honestly, would have chosen to do so herself.

"Perhaps if you had not had so much to drink," she suggested, "you would not have bumped your knee. "Honestly, Sandor, for that you only have yourself to blame!"

The fox laughed and scratched the base of her human back, where her skin blended seamlessly into the body of a deer. She shivered: a particularly sensitive spot.

"Yes, but then I would not have had so much fun with you," he said, pressing his hand down against her softly. "I'm glad to be here with you, there with you, wherever you want to go too. I mean that."

She blushed, though didn't let him see how the shade darkened her cheeks. The slope grew steeper again, though it was a smooth incline that, at the very least, allowed her to keep going up at a steady pace, exertion only straining her a little.

"It is a difficult route, this one," she admitted, puffing out her cheeks a little as she shot a look back at him. "And made more difficult by someone's weight on me."

His ears pricked up straight and, for a moment, Sandor appeared stricken.

"Alyssa! I had no idea you were so tired!" He fussed and floundered, tipping back and forth, trying to find the best way to swing his leg over her back with all the saddlebags in place. "Please, let me get off, I didn't think..."

But Alyssa's laughter stopped him and the affronted fox sat back up straight upon her, cheeks puffed out as he held in his indignation. Yet the trembling of the doe-taur under him laughing could not possibly be mistaken for anything else.

"I'm teasing you," she said, half-turning her torso to poke him in the side, making the fox yelp and release the air that he'd held in his puffed-up cheeks. "You're too easy now, you never expect teasing to come from me."

Sandor huffed and folded his arms, pretending not to look at her.

"No, I do not," he grumbled good-naturedly, "but I'm glad you've got to that point now... You're so much different... You're so different from how you were, Alyssa, I love to see how you've grown. Not that I didn't like you before, but I hope that I got to grow with you, at least a little bit."

"Maybe so," she said, not looking back at him. "But it is quite often said that the males of a species are slower to mature than the females. I think that that is still the case when it comes to foxes too..."

"Hey!"

She laughed as he flicked her ear, the mood between them softening, light-hearted and playful. Heaven knew that they'd needed that over the recent weeks, the little unrest over Elder Ron's gift only an underlying symptom of the distaste and upset that had been shown towards Alyssa. In short, the fox was tired of it and he hoped that a move to a new town, even though it was sure to be challenging, would give him a chance to lay down proper boundaries - things that he had never gotten the chance to do as a younger mage or fox.

"Alyssa..." He said quietly, mulling things over in his head. "Do you think that...I never stood up for you? I tried... I really did, but I never found the right words. I kept telling them to leave you alone, that you had no part in their ridiculous class stuff..."

"No, I know that, Sandor, I know."

Alyssa paused. It was a difficult topic to delve into, though not one that was entirely unexpected.

"It might have been nice..." She ventured, choosing to be bolder than she ever had before. "I mean, for you to stand up for me, I'm thinking way back when we were younger. You had me as a playmate, but, after you all moved into the big house and your parents stood fast in the merchant trade, there were others that you played with too. You were just a young fox though...but they mocked me when you weren't there and always left me out of the games."

Alyssa shook her head and shot him a small smile back, just to let Sandor know that she was not all that sad about it, considering that it had been a long time ago.

"Coming to live with you and your family changed my life for the better, but it really showed me how different we were. You were different, but you didn't know how to bridge the gap between us when it came to others outside our friendship - and then our relationship too. I've never seen anyone else bridge the gap either, so it is not as if you had anyone to teach you or any lead to follow. I understand why it was hard. Some might say that you are the first to be with a taur openly. I mean, besides the brothels, but everyone knows what goes on there and expects it, don't they?"

Sandor pursed his lips. For all his quips and little sexual jokes, he didn't like the thought of those that had no other choice trading sexual services for money. If they wanted to do it, of course, that was fine. But he was not a fool. Alyssa, to her credit, had opened her eyes to so much more than what he had seen in his narrow view of the world. And the fox had not liked what he had seen there.

"I know... I could have done better, Alyssa, I'm so sorry. I will listen to you now, going forward, I promise," he declared, though it was something that he, perhaps, should have said for a long time. "There's a difference between us, but it should never have been anything at all to stop us from being together, from working together... I'm going to work to broach those differences in the next town, forging a path. But I'm going to need your help, Alyssa, so much of it. I can't do it alone. I am so sorry that I did not do what I could have to help you over the years..."

"But I was with you nonetheless, for it was always new territory for us," Alyssa said with a smile, reaching back to take his hand, letting Sandor know that there was no bad feeling between them. "There was never anything wrong, sweetheart, with anything you did. We are young still, we are still learning. If there were more for us to learn from about this kind of thing, I would think differently, but there were not. So, please do not worry about it anymore. Ah!"

Alyssa broke over the crest of the steep slope with a puff of breath, happy to finally be on an easier stretch of ground. Yet there was something that she had ignored during the climb, shifting her weight from side to side as she grunted, feeling the weight of him more heavily than ever pressing down on her flanks.

Hm...

_ _

Maybe that hadn't been quite the time for that kind of conversation, especially when the needs of the body, though not in the way that Sandor might have liked her to be thinking about, had to be taken care of to.

"Come on," Alyssa said, clapping her hands as if to shoo him away from her. "You must get off me now, I need to relieve myself."

Sandor grinned, perking up cheekily again as he leaned forward. Wrapping his arms around her torso tightly, he nuzzled into her hair as she squeaked, blushing once more, lips tickling her ear.

"But there's no one else here now, Alyssa," he murmured huskily, tongue flicking out to tease the very edge of her ear as the doe-taur quivered under him. "No one else is here now, you don't have to be so shy about relieving yourself in place. Just go."

"Oh, you!"

Alyssa scoffed and shook her head.

"No, it's not yet Autumn, your fur on me is making me feel hot, I need a break. Sandor, no more playing - off me, now!"

But Sandor was too cheeky to play fair with her that easily, tail lifting proudly as his fox heritage showed through in a little of the body language he displayed. Stubbornly, as if he was much younger than he actually was, he folded his arms across his chest and shook his head.

"What if I don't want to get off?"

"I'm telling you to get off me, Sandor," she grunted, shooting him a look. "Off, now, or I start bucking."

"Ohhhh," he laughed, rocking back and forth on top of her as if to grind his crotch down into her teasingly, the softness of his groin and all contained there cupped gently within his undergarments. "Maybe I'd like that though, Alyssa, but, really, out here in the forest? You're getting naughtier..."

Alyssa let out a squawk of exasperation, her cheeks bright red, but the doe-taur had a trick up her sleeve. Reaching back, she used a special trick of hers, worming her hand around behind the fox, even as he lightly protested, reaching for the root of his tail.

"What are you - Alyssaaaaah!"

He squealed, too high-pitched to be anything approaching a normal tone of voice for him, though the fox trembled and quaked, the sensitive root of his tail, where it attached to his body, bristling with sensation. It was too much for him and, much to Sandor's chagrin, all he could do was topple off her weakly, laughing faintly all the while, though a part of him marvelled at her ingenuity. For him, it was a delicious battle between stringent arousal and overstimulation, being a little impressed that she had been able to take advantage of him in that way.

It was not something that Alyssa at all would have done years ago... And he loved her for growing with him.

"That's soooo not fair," the fox grumbled, but got up from the ground, where he had landed with a thump, while Alyssa grinned and went off for a little privacy. "Go on then, silly, sweet doe..."

Alyssa stuck out her tongue at him and disappeared behind a rock that would, at least, give her some privacy while she took care of her bodily needs. Before leaving, however, she left the saddle bags behind, so that they would not press down over her loin while she did so, which could be quite uncomfortable.

While she disappeared, the fox unpacked the items from the saddlebags, grudgingly marvelling at the quality, though he didn't want to look at it for too long, as nice as it was. However, Alyssa had begged him to pack lightly for the trip, for they could not take a cart with them, so only two of the hanging bags on either side of her were full with a chunkier wooden box sitting behind the saddle area.

"Best to rest here for a while," he said with a small smile. "We've been walking for a while...and it has been you doing most of the work this time."

For as strong as his dear doe-taur was, he didn't want to stress her and her body out too much, considering too how very much she always did for him. He needed to pay that back to her too, in kind, whenever he could, and she had traversed the steep slope with ease and skill that went beyond him. She was so much stronger than she looked and the fox smiled faintly at how his beloved quite appeared to be more powerful than some of the centaurs that he had seen, even ones that were much bigger than her.

Somewhere near, a twig snapped. His breath caught, muscles tightening.

Alyssa breathed a sigh of relief, feeling so much more comfortable after taking care of herself, though the look on her fox's face drew her up short.

"What is it?" She said, stilling, heart pounding. "What can you hear?"

Although her instincts were finely tuned, the fox could use his magic in small ways to enhance his. His muzzle crinkled, worried, and he nodded tightly.

"Two others, I think males, near," he said, his tone short and clipped, calling magic to the forefront of his mind, all jest gone from his being. "Alyssa, we need -"

"Yahhhhhh!"

Yet there was no time for him to take space even on the small plateau that they had found, not as the bandits attacked. Dressed in loose clothes that looked more like rags for how dirty they were, the men came with the fury of those that had nothing to lose, bearing bows and arrows, knives and daggers, though no short sword, which was at least something.

Sandor took that all in as they lunged over him, attacking from a higher outcrop of rock, the more mountainous, hilly area that they were traversing challenging in more than one way. Silently, he cursed himself, for he might have been able to catch them ahead of time, but it was too late for that as the anthros spun and faced him, one with a bow and arrow levelled while the other brandished a shockingly sharp, curved dagger. Although they were well covered, perhaps to protect their identities, it was clear that one was a stoat while the other was a badger.

"What do we have here?" The badger sneered, his face obscured by a wrap of grey cloth, though his eyes were hard, cold and unfeeling over the top of it and his snout. "A young mage...out alone? Shouldn't you have a chaperone, wee one?"

"Yes," the stoat sneered, circling him, pressing him back with Alyssa behind him. "Shouldn't you have your mommy out here, looking out for you?

Sandor's jaw line hardened, lips pressed together, though the fox did not demean himself to a snarl. Not yet, at least.

"We don't want any trouble here..." He said lowly, ears pinned flat to his head. "Move on and we will all leave one another well enough alone."

Alyssa quivered, though stood fast, her mind racing. What could she do to help him? She had to support Sandor somehow! There were some potions in the packs...but she had hoped that she'd never need to use anything to heal, though there was something in there too to increase strength. Her mind flashed through option after option as Sandor tracked their opponents.

"Well, we don't have any intention of leaving you alone," the stoat said, holding the bow aloft, an arrow nocked and ready to let fly. "We've killed many apprentice little mages, just like you, runt. What makes you think that you're going to be any different."

Sandor growled, though he didn't quite want to call fire magic to his palms, not yet. He'd used it quite a lot in his early days, but it was hard to throw his attacks with refinement amongst the trees. If he missed, he would torch the plants that he also spent so much time in a close affinity with, considering his nature magic training, and that had not sat right with him. There was too, after all, the possibility of starting a forest fire up there, the ground and foliage dryer than he would have liked.

He cursed under his breath, lips barely moving. Fighting out there was nothing like fighting in the arena. He had to remember that. Bandits didn't play under the same rules and the movements of the enemy were both harder to track and harder to predict.

"I won't be one of them," he said boldly, chin tilted up. "But you should be made to atone for your crimes against mages! What have any of us done to you?"

"Aw... Nothing, nothing..." The badger said with a cut-off laugh, as if there really was something. "All of you thinking that you're so much better than us... We didn't just do it for their belongings too, you know, oh no... No, no... Scum deserves to be defiled and organs, well...they have their value on the black market. I'm sure you understand. And we don't much care if you don't."

The badger tilted his blade, eyes intent.

"I wonder how much your organs will fetch once we've cut them out of you..."

Alyssa shuddered.

"You'll never touch him!"

"Ohhhh, look at that," the stoat mocked. "He's got a pet! Typical for a wizard!"

The stoat scoffed, dipping his arrow for a moment, giving Sandor a chance to take the measure of him a little more. The fox absorbed it all, all the little motions and twitches of their bodies, taking in all the information that he possibly could about them. It was the only thing that could possibly get him ahead. More so to protect Alyssa than himself, but ending his life on his travels to the next chapter of it was hardly something that he wanted to become the end of his tale either...

But he had to keep a level head.

"I hate wizards," Sandor growled, ears pinned. "They are not mages... We are different. Shouldn't you know that, if you're preying on them?"

The stoat rolled his eyes and spat on the ground.

"Bah! You are all the same! You hide away, not studying openly like cursed necromancers... You don't even serve tyrants like warlocks, no fucking clear purpose. All you want to do is magic, magic, magic with no real purpose - oh, but to keep up your reputation, because that's all that matters. And those hats are ugly!"

The badger snarled, lips pulling back over his teeth as the rag over his face shifted.

"Let's finish this!"

The lunged, the badger going for Sandor with the glint of his blade, Alyssa backing off, trying to protect their packs. It wouldn't do if she got between the fox and an attack! Well, not unless she was trying to protect him, but that was something else entirely, something else that she couldn't even put a name to. The fox snarled, sending a churning furrow rumbling through the ground, cutting it up with a vine, forcing them to back off, though he was limited in how much he could do.

There was just too much to focus on as he dodged and ducked, an arrow flying far too close to his ear for comfort, praying that it didn't end up anywhere near Alyssa. The bandits shouted and screamed and tossed jeers his way, but the fox did not allow them to land, not when he had far more important things to focus on. He would have liked to say that the world around him slowed down as adrenaline pumped through his veins, laced with his natural, innate magic and the magic of the ancient tree that had transformed him so, but it was just him speeding up, matching their pace.

And it was a gruelling pace too, though he did not fight with physical weapons like them, sending off a challenging burst of fire sparks to blind them briefly, another arrow flying by, slamming into a tree trunk. His heart pounded as he lunged for the badger's arm, but the slash of a second knife, held in the badger's other hand, forced him back, not allowing him to close the distance or force the weapon away.

Think, Sandor, think!

_ _

And yet the one thing that so many mages were not experienced in, as the bandits had already realised, was fighting outside the arena. Every part of their training was carefully regulated and, in a way, more for appearances and reputation than anything else. Even though that was something that Sandor was trying to change, after his experiences out in the wilds, it was a slow process, even for himself.

There was only so much he could do.

"Sandor!"

His head whipped around, though he moved on instinct to snatch his staff out of the air, Alyssa throwing it to him, though he hated the look of fear on her face. Even though it was wooden, it was magically reinforced and was at least something that the fox could use to deflect the attacks thrown his way, taking the dagger and knife into it at once and roaring as he sent a blast of leaves in their faces.

"Ah - fucking mage!"

Sandor grinned, knocking the stoat off his feet, at least disarming him, though the stoat didn't seem to mind that in the slightest, drawing a blade from his hip and a set of throwing knives into his other hand. The knives slotted down against his fingers as if he was about to throw them, though that was a kind of attack that even Sandor was not familiar with.

"You shouldn't underestimate me," he bit back at them, even though holding the long staff was tiring and inconvenient to lug about. "Perhaps you should turn on your tails right now and we can forget that this whole sorry _ordeal_even happened?"

It was not a choice that the thieves were willing to take as they snarled and pressed the attack, focusing on Sandor rather than Alyssa, for he, quite clearly, was the one that they saw as a greater threat.

"Not likely, mage!" The stoat sneered. "We'll not stop until you are laid out on the ground and everything that we can take has been harvested from you and your pretty little pet!"

The throwing knives whistled through the air, one after the other, and it was only his heightened sense of hearing, both as a fox and as a mage who had enhanced little things about himself in that way, that allowed him to dodge.

Whish!

_ _

One flew past his left ear.

Whish!

_ _

Another slipped between his right arm and his side, so close to nicking his clothes.

Whish!

_ _

A third went between his legs.

Whish!

_ _

The last went wide as Sandor spun away, not willing to stay too close to the bandits while they had such blades. His staff flung out, ramming the butt into the pit of the stoat's belly, though the stoat leapt backwards, making it so that he didn't get the wind knocked out of him or have to recover as much. Sandor's brow furrowed. Damn, they were quick! That was what happened, however, when one lived such a sordid, insidious life, taking lives for their gain.

The attacks came, one after the other, though the fox could barely believe that they had so many weapons on them. The throwing knives had been one thing, but they pressed the attack on both sides, forcing him to reach into his reserves of magic to shake the ground under them while he blocked the badger's blade on one side. It split his attention and drained him more quickly than the fox could have imagined possible, sweat dampening his fur as the clean bite of fresh sweat clawed into his nostrils. He knew they smelled it too, though he would never let the bandits truly see the fear in his eyes.

He had to fight back. He had to fight hard. He had to do it all... All for Alyssa. There was no other choice for him.

The fox clenched his jaw, swiping with the staff, though it seemed heavier than before, even as he fired off a cluster of thorns, the bandits ducking, taking cover, though they were only too quick to come back to press the attack all over again. Nothing seemed to phase them and, in his slightly weakened state, Sandor had to remind himself that he was not the first mage that they had encountered. After all, they had boasted about how many they had taken out already, as stomach-churning as that was.

He could not spare a moment, even then, for his fallen brethren, however, no... No. He had to focus, the rap of blades on his spear dulling the surface, his breath becoming increasingly laboured. But he could not give in, not as he called on the wind to funnel through there, splitting the stoat and the badger apart so that he could get in between them, blocking the badger with his staff while he lunged with his other hand, sending a flash of solar magic, derived from the power of plants themselves, right into the stoat's eyes.

The stoat yelped and swore, staggering back, and Sandor pressed the attack. Alas, even though he had made some enhancements to his eyesight before, they were fading quickly with his dwindling energy. Whereas they had had something of an advantage with them ignoring Alyssa and at least not forcing Sandor to defend her as well as himself, the problem lay in the fading light for him. Without his eyesight, he lost a chunk of his ability to predict their attacks, even as sweat trickled into his eyes.

The day wore on, his muscles aching, though the fox could not tell just how much time had passed, quite honestly. It didn't matter, as long as he kept them back and away from Alyssa, forever searching and pressing for an advantage that simply did not seem to be there.

Alyssa, however, was left helpless, the day growing longer and the battle raging, more fearsome than any bout in the arena that she had come to watch Sandor doing. There, he was the professional, there, he was in control. And yet her beloved fox appeared to end up having exceedingly little control out there in the forest, the tall trunks of the trees littered with arrows and blades and notch marks from where attacks had gone awry, though no one had landed a hit on another, not yet. The closest that anyone had come was nicking one another's clothes and, to be fair, the bandits looked a lot more ragged than they had at the begin.

The doe-taur darted back and forth, not wanting to waste her own energy, even though she had to do something to help, anything! Or maybe the best help that she could be was waiting for Sandor back by the packages, for she had only learned some basic self-defence before. And that was more for the dirtier, rougher style of street fighting, in case someone tried to grab her down a dark alley when she was ever coming home late at night, how to get out of a chokehold and things like that. But she knew something, enough to get started with, and the doe-taur knew, even then, that the time had come to improve her skills even further.

Still, there was a sense of awe in her at watching him infuse his body with magic, though she could imagine how much it was draining him, the bandit stoat managing to get in a slice down his arm that spilt a hot, red rush of blood. It was light enough just to stain his clothes, however, not cutting into the muscle, though Sandor trembled, infusing himself with strength again as he lunged, forcing the stoat back against the rock that Alyssa had ducked behind when they had come there in the first place.

He was fearsome, foreboding, plant magic running through him, though Sandor seemed to be holding back too, even if Alyssa did not understand that. Maybe his magic reserves were depleted after the night before, for which she wrung her hands, lamenting that she had let him go so far with the drinking, even though it had been his problem to manage to. No, no, no, he was his own fox, a grown fox, and she could not stop him from going too far from time to time, as much as she might have thought that it was her place.

But those were just thoughts, too many thoughts, all she had were thoughts - all as knives slammed into the staff, Sandor growling as he was forced back, landing a blow, knocking the stoat in the jaw and sending the badger to his knees. And yet it was as if it was everything they were expecting, even as his staff glowed faintly along the lines marked into it, channelling his magic. And yet even with twisting vines cracking through the ground and reaching for the ankles of the bandits that sought to cut them down, she knew that Sandor could only attack with one type of magic at once. Moreso, he could only use one type of plant magic at once, limiting how he attacked.

The trees clung to the edges of their space, Alyssa shuffling back against the oak, though it didn't seem all that protective anymore with its branches full of acorns that would not fall until the autumn months came. Help! She had to help, yes, turning her eyes back to the packs with renewed determination. It was time to show that she could be more useful than just someone to carry the bags and ensure he had everything he needed when he needed it when they were out in the field.

She dug through the bags, cursing under her breath, the kind of words that she would not have honestly repeated if she had been around Sandor, for it was not the way that she wanted to speak. Her hands shook as she clawed at the edges of the wooden box, heart lifting. Oh, those potions were not something that she at all hoped that she would have to use on him, not under such dire circumstances, but there were all that she had. It had been a last-minute purchase before they had left, Alyssa not wanting to go without having it there just in case, the largest of all their potions with the components of it taking up the entire box.

"Come on, come on..." The deer-taur muttered fervently to herself, setting everything out, her hands steadying. "A vial, a stand, the herbs, everything separated... And the setting agent, the tools... Yes, yes, everything is here, everything is here, come on now..."

All she could do was talk to herself, guiding herself through it, for the potion was not something that came with instructions, though the components had, at the very least, been well-padded within the box. Her heart pounded, sweating under her arms and in places that she would have much rather not have thought about, setting up the via in the stand, though she needed the quietest of hands to mix the potion.

Thank goodness it's not one that he must drink!

_ _

There were small things, despite all that, to be grateful for. She couldn't even look up at Sandor as she pressed the herbs into the vial with a prodding stick, sterile and clean, of course, which was why everything had had to be kept safe in the wooden box. She set everything carefully into the moss of the forest floor, not wanting to spill anything, for she would only have one shot and one shot alone at mixing the potion.

In short, it was not one that Alyssa could at all afford to mess up.

The herbs fizzed in the magic-infused liquid that she poured into the fat vial and she stirred vigorously, following the instructions for the restorative potion from memory. Everything was there, at least, so it was not as if she was picking items off a shelve, letting the potion sit for twenty seconds exactly while she prepare the setting agent and the activation - but the activation, of course, would come last. The vial itself, after all, was not glass but a type of material that, once in contact with an active potion, would disintegrate in minutes - if it was not set off prior to that.

Mages were clever, though Alyssa could not help but wish that they were cleverer. For in the heat of battle itself, trying to help the heart of her soul simply to survive, she knew more than one thing that they could do to improve their processes and training by far.

"Quickly, quickly..."

She panted as she glanced up, though she could not rush the passage of time, not even as Sandor let out a yelp, though he'd only taken a punch to the jaw as the stoat ran up the inside of his staff, hooking it into the crook of his arm so that the staff was rendered useless. At the point that it mattered the most, the stoat got in close and Sandor was forced to half grapple with him, only gaining distance by locking a small tendril of vine around the bandit's ankle to keep him in place while he got some breathing space. But the fox did not look to be in good condition at all, heaving and panting, his fur ruffled up, blood on his arm where he had been cut, though it was mainly his dwindling energy and magic that was of the greatest importance.

And that she could fix.

Her fingers were sure and deft, closing around the vial - not too far down and not too close to the lid either. Being careful was of the essence and Alyssa could not afford to slip, as much as she wanted to rush. A cry from Sandor had her urging herself to whirl around, to see what was going on, but she could not spill the potion, running through the notes that she had made, over and over again back when she'd been memorising it in the workroom, to make sure it was right. It was the timings that were key, as she had all the ingredients prepared in the box already to pick from...and that was something that no notes could help her with, only counting surely under her breath, marking time with the frantic beats of her heart.

One, two...three...four...five...

_ _

Even time, even time - it had to be even. And yet the doe-taur could wait no longer as her partner let out a blood-curdling snarl, yet it was one that, that time, she yearned to hear him shriek. She needed to know that he was fighting back, that he was not losing, that there was meaning behind her sweaty palms, that there was some kind of reason, any kind of reason, for her to keep going.

For the pounding of her heart knew more than her mind just how dire the situation was, that Sandor could be struck down by the bandits at any moment. That her sweet, sweet fox, the love and the light of her life that she wanted to spend the rest of her years with could be smashed down into the dirt, cut and bloodied...and that would be the end of it for them.

Alyssa swallowed a whimper, forcing it down. It didn't belong on her lips, not as she held the potion high, waiting for the colour to change from orange to purple. The moment the hue flickered true, she whipped to the side, eyes locking onto Sandor. It was done, but the moment had to be right, for she only had one potion and one shot, one chance to get it right.

No warning had to come, for she didn't want to alert the bandits, her heart hammering in her chest, lungs tight with emotion, though the prey part of the doe-taur still did all that it could to take deep, full breaths, even though they felt like they were being snatched out of the air itself by her lungs. The prey part of her slowed everything down for Alyssa, watching the arc of her arm flying back, storing power in the contracting muscle to send the potion flying forward. Her fingers clenched around the vial in the moment before she let it loose, her eyes fixed on her love, wishing with all her heart and soul that it would fly true.

For the very moment that it was out of her hand, everything was up to fate and luck, and the pure, tarnished hope that her aim was true.

SMASH!

The potion, true to form, smashed into the ground right at Sandor's feet, the fox starting, but the bandits were the ones that leapt back, at least giving him space. Perhaps they suspected an attack from Alyssa, their venomous gazes darting to her, perhaps for the first time, though Alyssa could only clasp her hands to her chest, wanting again to go through the packs to find anything that may be of use to Sandor, but, really, she knew she would not find anything there. The only tools with which she had left to fight were the ones already on her body: her hooves and what strength lay in her hands. Words, however, were not so much something that she thought would be all that difficult in any use against such bandits...

"Ah!"

Sandor's jaws broke apart into a wide grin, nodding his thanks to Alyssa as the potion broke, the liquid dissipating over his paws as it released a thick, green smoke, reminiscent of his nature magic. The smoke wound up around him, as if it had a life and a mind of its own.

"Ah... Alyssa..." His voice was small, but grateful, one ear flicked back towards his doe-taur. "Thank you..."

Sandor stood taller than before, stronger than before, pushing his shoulder blades back. He needed to be strong, yes, for her, as fresh energy flooded his veins. He was lucky to have not taken too many blows from the bandits, despite the intensity of the fight, though it should have been telling too that he had indeed been holding his own against two that were skilled in taking down mages, using their own tricks against them. Even the cut on his arm healed, though it had not been that mad to begin with, energy flooding him, though not all his depleted magical reserves could be restored. Even with a potion brewed in such urgent circumstances, he could not have expected it to rejuvenate him so much, as if he was sinking the roots of his natural energy down into the ground, weaving and winding, seeking out that deep sustenance that plants drew on that mammalian lifeforms could not.

It was what he needed, baring his teeth in a feral grin, the dying light of the day glinting off them, the tiny gleams of late afternoon light slanting between the leaves and the trees. He clenched his hands more firmly around the staff, Kastalia, the smooth curve of the rounded wood so familiar to him, though he too would have to spend time healing the notches in it from the battle.

If he even got through it... But that was not a line of thought that the white fox was willing to go down, blinking through the smoke as the bandits swore.

"What in the kingdom is this crap?"

"Get it off me!"

Yet where the smoke stretched out its insidious, tricky tendrils towards the bandits, it did not have the same effect. For it knew what its purpose was, even as it dissipated and spread out, and not even the bandits could escape its curling wrath.

For Sandor, of course, with magical blood and the ancient blood of the evil tree that had been absorbed and made a part of him what seemed like all that time ago, was restored by the potion. That was what it was intended to do, after all. And yet for those that did not have such magic flowing through them with every pump of blood around their body and contraction of muscle taking in oxygen from their bloodstream, it had the reverse effect.

It took from them, whereas it gave to those like Sandor, even if those like Sandor, perhaps, were not as plentiful in the world as they had been at one time. The bandits staggered, though the smoke was thick, flooding them and the trees, a swathe that was like fog, blistering and sweltering, closing in around them on all sides. All Sandor and Alyssa could do was listen to them stagger, the doe-taur with a little smirk pulling at her lips, their blundering and fumbling, all as the smoke worked its way inside them. There was nothing, after all, that either of them could do to stop themselves from inhaling it. Breathing, even in such a situation, was not optional...

That was just why Alyssa had had to stay so far back and away, though they had talked about trying to infuse her blood, in time, with something similar, so that she would have greater personal resilience and protection. But they faltered, floundering in the smoke, giving great, hacking coughs, heaving and fighting just to try to get enough oxygen into their lungs.

"Ergh... What is this stuff?"

They didn't know who asked that question, but it at least made Alyssa smirk more deeply, a little more confident in herself. In the potion, she might well have turned the tide for Sandor against them. And if she could do that, maybe then everything would be fine, maybe then she could continue to use her abilities to assist him in more ways than she could ever before have imagined.

For them, it was poison, slinking into their veins and churning through deeply. The smoke, however, cleared faintly, slowly allowing the bandits to wheel around, staggering and half slumped over, though the killing instinct was by no means gone from either the badger or the fox.

"You..."

The stoat rumbled, straightening, even though the poison in his veins was enough to slow him down, to make his steps slow and heavy, as if he was being weighed down or pulled back with every step. His lips parted to show off his sharp, yellowing teeth in a deadly kind of smile, and Alyssa faltered for a moment, taking a half-step back, eyes darting between Sandor and their pack. Which should she go to? There was no right answer in a moment like that, not when there was only a split-second to make a decision.

And yet it was the badger who decided for her, sliding out his knife, the blade muddied by the smoke so that not even the dim light glinted off it as easily as before.

"You will regret that, you little wench!"

Sandor slammed the butt of Kastalia into the ground, bellowing, a roar like no other exploding from his lungs. It got their attention, but it was the anger in that roar that really fuelled him, even a little spittle flying from his maw, truly a beast of carnage and power. Yet that was, partly, what he was, who he had always been meant to be, taking on the true power of a mage and all that he had become.

"You will not touch her!"

Perhaps that was all the fuel he had needed, although the restoration potion had helped tenfold, his limbs stronger, his lungs fuller, everything coming to him with a great deal more ease than it had before. There was a bulky weight in the staff as he channelled his magic, yes, but he did not feel anywhere near as drained as he had before, eyes fixed on the bandits, his brow furrowed, muzzle creased with the force of his roar.

"Yahhhhh!"

He yowled like a true fox, letting anger flow through him, powering up his magic as vines shot from the ground. The badger howled and tried to jump back, but he was too slow with the effects of the poison in his veins, working deeply, insidiously, too stringently for the badger bandit to get out of the tightening wrap of his vines in time. They closed in around him, snaking up his legs, lifting him from the ground, crushing his stomach and his torso, squeezing in as his furious cries turned to grunts and wheezes.

Sandor glared at him, a hard cold lacing his gaze.

"For threatening to harm her," he said, keeping one eye on the stoat who still seemed to be heavily struggling with the poison, "I should kill you. It would give me great pleasure to kill you... But perhaps the right thing to do, as much as it pains me, is to hand you over to the nearest mage union. Surely you have prior convictions and my testimony will be more than enough to convict you, along with Alyssa's, of course. For your past crimes, the families of the murdered mages deserve answers and closure. As horrific as those answers, in the end, may be..."

His expression soured further, though his vines locked in around the badger. Tight enough around his chest and throat to stop him from breathing easily, they forced the bandit to concentrate everything he had on breathing, though that was not something that Sandor was all that worried about. With his vine attack secure, he turned his attention to the stoat, fleeing and staggering away, crashing through the undergrowth. With a growl that, frankly, could only be described as bloodthirsty, Sandor gave chase, holding Kastalia above his head as he skidded down to where the earth turned downhill once more.

"Oh... Oh, dear..."

Alyssa floundered for a second, but the only reasonable thing to do was to follow, not worrying too much about the badger, for there were few things that could get out of Sandor's magic once he had locked on like that. It made her feel a bit safer, a bit more secure, even though nothing about being out there in the deep, mountainous forest felt safe at all. Maybe before the bandits had appeared, though that turned out, in the end, to be very much a false sense of security.

She had to go, scooping up everything there into her arms rather than carrying it on her back, for there was no time to secure all the straps and buckles in place, very much not so. Setting off at a pace, she skidded and half slid down the slope, too steep for her to safely traverse, though the undergrowth clawed at her, thorns from brambles catching at her fur and her clothes.

"Agh!"

She batted the plants away from her face, gritting her teeth, but the deer-taur had to steel herself. What if she didn't catch up with Sandor in time? What if the restoration potion had not helped him enough and she had to do something, even then, to step in? She had to be there for him. Little did Alyssa know just how useful she was proving herself to be to Sandor, in more ways than the simple one that she had always thought she would be, as a partner.

The fox boldly chased down the stoat, though the slenderer anthro was like a serpent of the devil himself as he snaked down the slope, throwing his weight into it to counteract the poison. It was almost a daredevil kind of freefall down the slope, dodging rocks and skidding around them, though it was the act of one desperate for their life, one that knew that they, quite honestly, had nothing else at all to lose.

Sandor clenched his teeth, chasing him down, but it was his vines that did the work for him. He flung out his staff before his body, clasped securely between two hands, muttering the incantation under his breath. He did not often need incantations for spells that he knew so well those days, but desperate times caused for the easiest of measures possible - or so he thought.

He was rewarded with a cry from the stoat as a single thick vine sprouted, knocking him off his booted hind paws and then snatching him up like a trophy, winding around and around him, bundling him all up. There was hardly anything left of the stoat to be seen as the vine even closed over his face. Sandor grinned.

Yet he was a step ahead of himself when he should have been watching his mana reserves.

The fox gasped, eyes wide, missing his step and staggering as his magic... What? It shouldn't have failed, but it was as if a breath exhaled had taken it away from him, a tingle shocking him as every bit of his magic held in that vine slipped away.

"No!"

Sandor cursed under his breath, levelling his staff to hide what had happened, even as the vine failed and slumped, releasing the bandit from its grasp. The stoat squirmed free, not taking a moment to take in his good fortune, whipping out a knife and sinking into a fighting stance. Still, Sandor had the advantage, up on the higher ground of the slope.

"You will pay for what you have done to mages!" He barked out, distracting the bandit as he sought to throw up a fall of vines, but they didn't even sprout. "The court of mages will see you put away for life, or given the death penalty for your crimes! For all the lives you have taken!"

The stoat may not have known what was happening to Sandor as he leapt and slashed with the sharpened blade of the knife, but he pressed his desperate attack. The fox floundered, giving ground, blocking with the staff, but his mana was not where it should have been, all in disarray, nothing as it should have been. His heartbeat fluttered, panic sinking into him.

And something else sank into him, the knife cutting through his defences. It slipped neatly under the wood of the staff and into his abdomen, shocking the fox, his eyes wide, a small gasp breaking his lips. Yet he did not feel it, blinking dully at the bandit, unable to understand what had happened, why things had changed, why the stoat's grin was suddenly bright and daring.

Alyssa cried out, the knife cutting into her partner too quickly for her to stop it, time slowing down around her. It didn't look like a deep cut - but she had to get there, she had to go to him, she had to help him! Sandor staggered back, blood seeping through the cotton of his shirt, and the stoat approached, knife held high.

"Stupid mage..."

"Halt!"

Alyssa shrieked and lunged in as the forest around them suddenly burst through with life. The rocks and thick undergrowth did well to hide them, though she knew of them vaguely from what Sandor and she had researched about the town that they were moving to before even deciding.

Tall and foreboding, they were clad in full armour, from head to toe, though the emblem of the Order Guards that controlled mages within the bounds of town boundaries was emblazoned on the chest of every one. They came equipped with large, heavy helms and thick spears, the butts rammed into the ground, sharpened points levelled at...

...Sandor. Not the stoat. Her eyes widened.

Maybe it was a stupid decision, for she could have fled, though Sandor rubbed at the back of his neck, half dropping Kastalia, as if weakness was flowing through him, dragging him down to the ground.

"Sandor! Please - get the stoat! Bandit, he's a bandit! You need to arrest him!"

A cougar with a lashing tail and a strange crest on the side of his helm, which Alyssa thought may have denoted him to be in charge, shook his head, not even sparing the stoat a second glance. Even the stoat seemed to know that he was safe then, sheathing his knife and doing his best to look small and innocent, even wringing his hands out plaintively before him.

"Guards, thank you, oh, thank you!" He professed, gasping and shuddering as if he had been through quite an ordeal. "This mage attacked me out here for no reason! I think he's even killed my friend! We were just out here, hunting! Hunting deer! He's scared away all the game too - oh, please, please, go to my friend! What if there is no life left in his veins? Good sirs, you must do something for him, guards, please! Help me!"

"What?" Alyssa reeled back, at Sandor's side, blocking him from the stoat, though there was little she could have done in that instance if the stoat had decided to attack. "You brute! You're a bandit - you attacked us! The badger came for me with a knife and you two have been driving Sandor into the ground, fighting him, said you were going to cut him open and harvest his organs!"

The stoat did not even have to speak.

"I very much doubt any such thing was said," the cougar captain growled from behind his helm, his eyes hard and calculating. "We know well enough what mages do. This is merely another case of a mage who has been using their magic to attack civilians. Just because you are his servant...or whatever you are...does not mean you have to lie for him, small taur."

Alyssa bristled, but Sandor reached out, vaguely managing to rest a hand on her forearm. He had some idea of the guards, more so than Alyssa, and didn't want her to get in the middle of them. Her words could be a lot sharper, sometimes, than others might have expected from a doe-taur.

The Order Guards kept mages in line, sometimes beyond what mages needed - especially considering that the bandits had been out there besting mages and taking advantage of them for what seemed like quite a while already. It made sense to him, in the gloriousness of hindsight, why the stoat had run in that direction. Even though it had not been the route down, it was enough to get the stoat bandit back within the bounds of the town that Alyssa and he were travelling to. And it was there that The Order Guards had the most jurisdiction, controlling all without their borders.

He swayed faintly, leaning heavily on his staff, though the fox was still, somehow, able to keep his eyes open, even though they dragged down more heavily under their weight. He yawned widely, even though he didn't want to sway there, feeling silly, though he was not to know that one of the guards had shot him with a dart that sapped his magic. Not even Alyssa was aware about things like that and it was a stark reminder, as he blinked slowly without understanding what had taken away his access to his mana at that time, where the place of mages in the world around them was seen to be. In short, there was much work still for Sandor to do, for mages and for those in the lands around them who were just like Alyssa.

"Mage, state your business here."

Sandor blinked up at the cougar, the feline dizzying. Was he really that tall? That didn't seem right. That didn't seem right at all. Why was everything blurry, so out of focus? The fox blinked again, but that didn't seem to make things any better.

"Uh... Travelling..."

"We are travelling to town," Alyssa said, standing tall, her tail standing up too to expose the white underside: a signal from her deer heritage that she thought they were in danger. "We are from the mage's guild in Everfast town, agreed on leave by Elder Ron. If you have further business, you should speak to him."

Alyssa clenched her jaw, though it was partly to stop it from shaking. She wasn't used to speaking in such clipped, brusque tones to someone that was above her in the social order, but the doe-taur didn't honestly see anything else she could do. She blocked them from Sandor with her body, his staff still in hand but useless. If he could not fight for them, then it would have to be her!

The cougar looked down at her, eyes sliding away dismissively.

"Is your master not capable of speaking for himself, doe?" The guard said, a laugh biting at the back of his tone. "Clearly you are unaware that we do not take kindly to rogue mages in these parts."

Alyssa growled, stomping a small hoof into the ground. It was not as intimidating as she would have liked it to be.

"He is not a rogue mage! He is one of the highest-level mages of the academy and in training! We are moving here to continue his training and do more good work! We never came here to cause harm and it was the bandits that started the fight. Why can't you see that?"

But the guards did not see that because it was what they chose to see, what they were used to. The academy where Sandor had been fortunate enough to train was a special place and they had come from a kind of town where things were a little more accepted, especially when they brought so much trade, good health and prosperous living to the anthros that lived there. Even if, considering how others had talked down at her, it had not always felt like that to Alyssa.

Hot nerves twisted and writhed in the pit of Alyssa's stomach as she looked up, refusing to not meet the cougar's eye. It was only made ever so slightly easier by the fact that he barely even looked at her, his gaze fixed on the fox. If his helm had not been covering most of his face, shadowing the lower half in the dying light of the day, she would have seen the derisive sneer that lay there, twisting his lips darkly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the stoat slink away, avoiding attention. Coward. If she had been alone, she would have thrown her fists in the air and screamed - or even run after him and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck as if he was nothing more than a kit or a cub. She didn't know what stoats called their young! Anger seethed in the pit of her stomach, hot and unfamiliar, as if it was eating away at her from the inside out.

"If this good civilian, this stoat," the guard said, glancing back at his comrades who nodded along in agreement with him, "did anything, then I am sure it was an accident. And that is the kindest manner in which I may look at this tale of yours. It is far more likely that his tale is true, from our experience. And any wounds sustained by this master of yours, well... I daresay they are well deserved."

Alyssa growled under her breath, though it went unnoticed by the guards, who were chuckling amongst themselves. Just like that, it was like being a small doe-taur all over again, seeing everyone towering, looming over her, so tall, so foreboding, everyone demeaning her and looking down on her as she was, simply because she was born a different species to many.

But the taur could not let her past define her. Her past was not who she really was.

She pressed her hand to Sandor, pressing his down over the wound, though there was more and more blood, the cut deeper than expected. Anger, once again, gave way to the cold fluttering of panic, adrenaline pumping and racing.

"Please!" She cried, choosing to implore them instead - surely they would see reason. "He is unwell! He is hurt! Please, take us down to town with you - quickly! I don't know what's happening, but he cannot restore himself, not without his magic! Not without having his mana!"

They laughed and the cougar, as if pitying her, shook his head slowly.

"It does not look that bad of a wound," he said, turning away from the obvious stream of blood, the soaking of it through the fine cloth that Sandor had worn that day. "We shall put this entire sorry business down to an accident today. You are free to go. But we will be watching you."

Alyssa took a deep breath, balling her hands up into fists, trying to hold her tongue as her focus lay on Sandor. Anger was so unfamiliar to her, not something that she usually took sitting in her heart, but it was right then. They were being so obtuse! Suddenly, she wasn't all that sure that moving to the new town was the best idea after all, but that was by the by when her first call to action was looking after Sandor and stopping the blood.

"No!" She said firmly, as if she was speaking to a small child, because she didn't want to push too far, didn't want to come off as hysterical or anything else that would make them simply ignore her. "You have to help him. Please, take us down, let us see a healer. Just let me staunch the flow..."

She tugged on the arm of the guard, but another flung their weapon up, an arrow nocked in an instant to a bow that she had not before taken note of. The doe-taur didn't have a chance to react as the arrow was loosed, someone barking a command for her to get away from the captain, the arrow striking her back where the saddle was in place.

"Ah!"

She jolted back, the breath knocked out of her, wide-eyed and frantic, clawing at herself. The guards muttered amongst themselves and backed off, though it was more as if they were done with them than as if they had something more to say or do.

"Alyssa..."

As Alyssa pawed at her body, breath catching, legs wobbly and light-headed from the prey instinct that was lodged deep inside her, Sandor raised his hand, the other on his staff, even then trying to channel his magic. He did not sense an injury, but her anxiety flurried around him. Yet the magic that he drew to the staff slipped away a moment later, leaving the fox only with a shooting pain in the wound in his abdomen as he gasped and doubled over. Once again, the magic slipped away from him, his wound worse than it had been before.

Alyssa checked herself over, panic fading when she realised that she had only felt the impact from the arrow, nothing more than that. Running her shaking hands as calmly as she could over the saddle cloth, she pulled at the arrow, which, by the grace of any gods that were listening, had not pierced her skin. Still, it felt strange, shaking her to her core as if she had become one of her hunted ancestors. She shuddered. She could almost feel the hide-memory of her ancestors being shot through the lungs, the pain, the knowledge of being prey. The cloth of the saddle, however, was strong enough to resist - just enough to stop her from coming to harm.

"There is nothing more to be seen here. Move out!"

The guards muttered and cursed, though Alyssa did not know what they were muttering about, why they were genuinely so very against her and Sandor, not when they had not done anything wrong. And yet she knew too, from her younger years, that others didn't have to have a reason to be against someone, for that was the truth of her reality for so very many years too.

She turned, ducking to Sandor's side and ripping a slice of clean cloth from what part of his shirt was not stained, for it was the best she had in that moment. There were no bandages in the pack, but there were sterilising potions, which she splashed onto the wound, the fox lying slumped over on his side on the ground. He panted shallowly, tail loose and limp, eyes not even fixed on anything. It was as if he was not present there, not knowing what was happening, that Alyssa was talking to him, snapping her fingers in front of his face, trying to do everything and anything she could to bring him back to reality.

"Sandor! Sandor! Listen to me! You have to focus, focus on me! Focus on the sound of my voice! You have to stay awake!"

The wounds stung as she splashed the potion on them, though she muttered an apology, half-hearted at best, for the sting of them. It was worth it if it saved his life, for the light was swiftly fading on the eve of the day and she had no idea how she was even going to get him safely into town. She hardly could take the short cut down the steep slope, needing to stick to the path, or else she'd throw a slumping, weakened Sandor from her back. And what if the bandits came back?

She shivered. No, no... She didn't want to think about that.

Wrapping the bandages tightly all around his torso, she stemmed the flow of blood efficiently, but her more experienced fingers did not find anything that could have been sapping his magic. The doe-taur swallowed hard, heart pounding, though she kept herself as calm as possible in the face of terror, seeing flashes of losing her lover streak before her eyes.

"No, no, no... Sandor... Sandor, you have to hold on!"

Continued in part three of three...